The scientists believe nowadays, there are two
trillions galaxies “out there”. Our “own” galaxy
is named The Milky Way in several languages,
even in Arabic, though it comes from a pagan
Greek myth. In Finnish it’s imaginatively called
The Bird’s Track (Linnunrata). But in Swedish
it’s simply and soberly called The Winter Street.
Wandering, I still think of you at times. You, who
walks the streets where there’s attendance and
warmth, like milk seeping from a cow’s teats. But
I’m far in the North and I walk on a winter street
there all is distance and it is sparsely between all.
We cannot touch in this now. But you may have
faith and patience to wait for a summer to come.
I’m too numb and cold to plead for it. No trillions
of galaxies can give a thrill to a distant heart here!
Yet, your heart is a bird and its track leads to me.